FlashFiction: A Collection by Quinn
by QuinnLark
Summary: Flashfiction is usually based on one or more prompts with a limit of 100-300 words. Some of my flashfics will become new stories as ideas strike me. But this is a collection of some of my past wins, 2nd place, and Honorable Mention finishes. Enjoy.
1. Ragtime Gal

Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight franchise

(Photo prompt was a girl in lingerie, fingering herself)

1926

This is the business. I don the lacey clothes, make sure I'm the real dish, and I show the button men and the beaus and the dope peddlers a good time.

I'm a dame of the night, and I'm damn good.

But this fella is a little different tonight. He likes to watch. "How much do you usually charge?" he asks.

"To watch me finger myself?" I wonder if that's really all he wants to do.  
He nods his head. No man wants to sit there and pay me to pleasure myself. But I know that look in his eyes; he's getting dizzy. Don't these macs know anything? You never fall head over heels for a ragtime girl. Even though this one's been carrying a torch for me since we were kids.

"I don't usually go chasing skirts, Bella," the wonder boy says when I don't answer his question.

I look up at him as I push my fingers deeper. "No?" I ask. He shakes his head as he palms his hard erection. "Fine. Two bits."

"Twenty-five cents?" he asks in surprise.

"Dollars." I smirk.

"I'll give you a grand if I can taste those fingers when you're done."

A/N:

THANKS!


	2. Hi is How Love Starts (poem)

**These are flash fiction entries I've written for blogs. Some may become fics in the future. **

**thanks for reading!**

This flashfic was based on a lovely picture with a caption that read:

"'Hi.' It's a short, simple word, but it's how love starts."

Here's my poem:

The pushing and the shoving  
Sweat and humidity  
Make me wonder why I came to this city  
Why I gave up being a small town girl  
With a tiny little world  
And stepped into this great wide unknown  
Why I step onto this train now  
Only to be shoved against another woman  
Who wants only to make it home  
To her nice cool house  
And a glass of chilled Chardonnay  
And a box of Chinese takeout  
This is my very mission  
Which is why I am so aggravated  
When a sharp elbow to my back  
Sends me stumbling into a stranger  
Until I see this is no ordinary  
Everyday kind of man  
He's beautiful and strong as he holds me  
Steady in his arms  
Wondering if I'm all right  
This man is musky and of made of earth and dirt  
But the smile lighting his eyes  
Speaks of his real home among the stars  
And the galaxies  
Which have not ceased dancing around with joy  
Since the moment I stumbled into his world  
All it takes is one moment  
For all of time to weave us a new fate  
"Hello"  
And now I am forever found


	3. Exams

This flash was based on a picture of a woman giving a guy a blowjob and the word "

**Irrumatio **Or: irrumation. Etymology: From the Latin irrumare, suck or fellate. Fellatio by actively thrusting into the mouth of a partner.

"Irrumatio." His voice is commanding, deep and husky. These are my favorite moments: examinations. The professor takes all assessments very seriously, but I especially enjoy the…oral exams. Biting my lip, I unbutton my blouse and let it fall to the floor as he loosens his tie and unzips his slacks. He knows I'll pass this test; after all, we've spent so much time studying.

As I drop to my knees, his hand immediately finds purchase on the back of my head, entwining his fingers in my hair and holding me steady. The metal of his wedding ring is cool against my neck but I ignore it. This isn't about anything more than fucking.

When his thick, swollen erection is before me, I open my mouth and present myself for his pleasure. There is no hesitancy as he pushes past my parted lips and begins to thrust with force. I love the way the silky head of his cock prods at the back of my throat with each drive.

For a moment, I pull away, licking up his shaft as I go. "Irrumatio," I repeat the word of the test before taking him as deep as possible once again.


	4. Good Girl

Word prompt: Lubricious: lewd, lecherous; sexually unrestrained. From the Latin lubricus, meaning slippery.

"You're so wet, darling." My fingertips pressed against her lubricious flesh, and I watched as they easily slipped into her body. Her throaty moan echoed in the empty office, resounding off the glass walls before being swallowed up by the leather sofa and the thick curtains.

God, she knew how much I loved her crotchless panties and the black fish-nets; I would certainly have to recompense her for this. "You'd better hold tight to the arm of the sofa," I threatened, promising both pain and pleasure. Jolting, her body reacted to my voice. She attempted to press her thighs together to gain some friction, but quickly ceased at my command. "Spread your legs apart. Now."

When her legs were widened to the distance she knew that I demanded, I gently tied the blindfold over her eyes. The metal links of the handcuffs clinked loudly. "Now, now," I reprimanded. "Good girls are rewarded. Do not move."

Finally, I pressed into her heated center and fucked her beautiful body. I couldn't wait any longer; I needed to feel her pussy milking my length. "Come now," I ordered, bringing my hand down hard on her ass and exploding within her.


	5. Hollow

This won me the Runner-Up award for Sinful Sunday.

Word prompt was "Hollow"

My sad, sad girl

So hollow and still,

Gripping tight to my neck

As I pull you closer,

Let you feel.

I've told you of your beauty,

I've raved of your grace,

A million times over

And yet it never sinks into place.

Watching in the mirror,

I notice my ring,

That thing of elation

Of things left unseen.

From the first time I saw you,

I knew you by heart.

And when forever was promised,

We swore never to part.

And yet you are going,

Soon you'll walk out the door,

But for now let me hold you

My lover, once more.


	6. When Your Lover Has Gone

This was my very first flashfiction. It's not E/B like the rest.

Prompt was a WWII era picture of a man holding and kissing a woman as she kept her hands to her side.

"Madeline?" My name is spoken by a ghost from my past. My body freezes, belying the acceleration of my heartbeat. I shouldn't turn around; I refuse to pretend that I've heard a voice that isn't really here.

I've given up. The war ended eight months earlier, and I have yet to receive word. Part of me wishes they would find his body—give me a husband to bury.

Carl and I were only married for a week when he left for Europe. Our impromptu elopement was beautiful, filled with love and promise. But Carl has been missing in action since April 7, 1942, when his P-51 Mustang was shot down over France.

"I'm home," the voice says; it's closer this time. I close my eyes tightly, not wanting to see the smoke of the ghost when it drifts past me.

Only, this time, the ghost is made of flesh, bones, and blood. I feel it, even through the layers of my dress. When I open my eyes, there is no preamble, no words.

His lips descend to mine, and we are whisked back in time, as if the four years of war never happened.

"You've come back to me."


	7. Complicated

**This is another one of my flashfiction poems. Thanks!**

**Quote prompt: "Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated." - Confucius**

Words: 144

I pushed  
You pulled  
I cried  
And you did a shitty job of trying to console.  
Somehow,  
This mess has blown up in my face  
Because you only wanted to complicate  
This simple thing we'd made.  
I asked for more than stolen moments with you  
You asked how many.  
I begged for time to get to know you  
You wondered why.  
I only wanted your love  
You needed to make sure I never got that far.  
Now,  
I watch you standing on my doorstep  
With the rain pouring down your face  
And your eyes plead with me to  
Forgive  
Forget.  
But my broken heart knows  
That the sweetest misery  
Won't be corrected by apologies  
Nor by tears,  
But by the power of love.  
I push the door closed  
Because,  
Sadly,  
Love was too simple for you back then  
And too complicated for me now.


	8. Gardening

**A flashfiction for Sinful Sunday. I wine one of the Honorable mentions along with my dear friend, GeekChic12.**

**my dear, lovely friend, TinsleyWarren, was the judge this week. She's been getting back into writing, and I hope you'll go look up her profile and read her story, Backward. It's funny and cute and a lot of fun!**

**The word prompt was "Virgin"**

Gardening

I am an innocent.  
My flower is my own  
Unopened but ready to bloom under the right attention and adoration.  
And he shows me that proper care.  
He is the sun in my life and  
The cultivator of my dreams and my desires.  
And when he lays me down on the lush grass  
In that field of bluebonnets,  
He kisses my freckled skin with his full lips.  
I feel the thrill of anticipation coursing through my blood  
And pooling in a secret place.  
He is preparing me for pruning  
Alas, before any flower can grow to fruition,  
It must experience the sting of trimming.  
So, when he feels I am ready,  
And he slips the tip of himself through the silky folds of my petals,  
He distracts me from the sharp burn  
By whispering how fragrant I am,  
How he dreams of my aroma,  
How it's better than any rose he's ever known.  
When his fingers touch and rub and circle me,  
I shake and squeeze and pull,  
Desperate to take him deeper into the heat,  
Until we fall together under star-dotted sky

A/N:

THANKS SO MUCH!


	9. Photography

_**this is an honorable mention flashfiction I won. The photo prompt was a man taking a picture of a naked woman, and the word prompt was "lust."**_

words: 198

Her pictures line my wall - years of carnal desire and adoration for my beautiful girl. She's my favorite piece of art.

She owns me.

I watch - harden - as her pink vibrator disappears between her legs, her back arching off the bed. Her morning orgasmic performances are my absolute joy. The way she moves and slides and touches her wet cunt leaves me aching.

I snap my pictures, zooming precisely until I can easily see where her skin is raised with the shiver of her arousal. The way her mouth falls open and the moan pours from her throat is enough to set me off. I unzip my fly, quickly pulling out my dick and pumping in time with her hand's movements. Thank fuck for tripods.

When she comes, flushed and pink, so do I - sticky and messy all over my black shirt. I know what's coming. His name is a whimper on her breath; it always is.

I tuck my flaccid cock away and stand from the bed, switching off the mic feed from her apartment. Her photos cover one wall and his another - each with a red bullseye. She's mine and soon enough he's going to know.


	10. A Bit for All of Us Fic Writers :)

**One of my latest flashfictions. The prompt was "bits and pieces." **

**Thanks!**

MadiMerek

words: 198

For all of us.

Not every guy can handle a girl who writes the things mine does. When she first told me that she wanted to pursue this as a career, I flipped the fuck out. Her dad was going to shoot me in the nuts for putting these ideas into his little girl's head.

Now, though, I don't feel trepidation of any sort. No fucking way. I see the bits and pieces of my love, pristinely typed upon the pages of the paperback, and I crave her. My dick swells and I ache for the smutty, wonderful woman I call my wife.

When she takes a few minutes too long to come to bed, I know where to find her. She's there in the study, with the baby monitor beside her, wearing those sexy purple glasses and typing furiously at her keyboard.

"What's this one about?" I ask.

Startled, she looks up from the glowing computer screen. "Um... A rockstar who fucks hard and falls in love even harder," she says, and nibbles her lip.

"Do you need any 'lemon' inspiration?" I wonder. Hope.

A slow grin lights her face as she closes the laptop, and her finger beckons me forward.


	11. The Spirit - a Halloween flash fiction

A scary/sexy Halloween flash fiction:

I am possessed by her. She levitates above me, supernatural and ethereal. But she's the best kind of unholy—the kind that takes me down into the depths of hellish sin and carries me up to the galaxies, dancing on the stars and astroids far, far above. Her body is my poison, my inferno. I am but a lost pilgrim at the gates of Hades and she is Persephone.

She knows not how she's bewitched me, but she does it over and over and over again, nonetheless. We come together in flawless seduction—a seance of souls, communing. I speak to tell her of both my rapture and need to atone of this perfect transgression, but she stitches my lips shut with a single look.

"No more words." Her voice is a whisper, slithering on the air against my skin. "Nothing good is sinful. Nothing this good can ever be wrong."


End file.
